


night fades away

by Antimonicacid



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, thats it really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23148565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antimonicacid/pseuds/Antimonicacid
Summary: Home is on the move. At times home is Felix’s one-bedroom apartment, with the leaky faucets and the muffled Russian accents of his next-door neighbors fighting. There are nights when home is the freezing cab of Dimitri’s car. There are nights when home is the artificial lighting of a 24-hour diner, the raspy wheeze of a jukebox, and shitty tar black coffee. No matter what though, home is with Dimitri.This is an au where Dimitri is a vampire.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 68





	night fades away

By now, Felix has been waiting long enough for the car to be half frozen. Along the edges of the windshield, powdered snow begins to collect in an hourglass like measure of time, and frames the empty salt and pepper alley outside. He knows he can’t turn the car on. Partially because the headlights could run the risk of drawing attention, even in the abandoned backstreets of the city. Partially because he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be here. Sitting, waiting, trying to not think as Dimitri draws out the remnants of the night. The idea of Felix accidentally killing the car's battery simply because he was a bit chilly is too embarrassing for him to even consider.

Felix draws his knees to his chest and puffs short bursts of hot air into his cupped hands. He squints at the fog hanging in the air, as if him glaring hard enough will chase the cold from the car’s cabin.

More than anything he hates the waiting. The anticipation. The anxiety of staying still. There’s never any true quiet while they’re inside the city’s limits. There’s always the rumbling of a truck hitting a pothole wrong, or the quick yet fierce yowling of dueling street cats. He can take comfort in the always of outside. That there is an ever present hum of those living separately, but near.

Felix tightens his arms around his knees and stares straight ahead. Not out of the windshield, but the plastic of the dashboard. He focuses on the grooves and small scratches. The way it’s chipped near the glove department. The tiny speck of blood crowning the number 3 on the car’s clock.

More than anything he hates the wait. The anticipation, anxiety, and fear.

Some nights he wonders if the source of his fear is that Dimitri will return. That maybe he's terrified that Dimitri _will_ come back. That maybe this endless nightmare will continue its rabid cycle night after night after night.

Most nights Felix knows that to be untrue. Most nights he knows that what he fears most is the permanency of Dimitri's departure. Most nights he knows that he wouldn’t be able to breathe while drowning in his absence.

And every night Dimitri returns. Every night Dimitri comes home. Like clockwork. For better or for worst.

The car door swings open and Felix jolts away.

“My apologies,” Dimitri always tries to avoid scaring him with his arrival, but he struggles to shed away the invisible fog of unremarkability that makes it possible for him to dip through shadows unknown.

“Whatever,” Felix shakes the surprise away. He tries not to look at Dimitri yet as he settles himself behind the wheel. Felix stretches his limbs out and winces at the stiffness frozen into his muscles.

“Sorry,” Dimitri says, avoiding eye contact as well as he refuses to specify his apology.

“Are you good?” The simple question pierces past the rough niceties.

Dimitri nods bluntly. He starts to fiddle with his hands, his habit of trying to scrape off the last of the stubborn, bloody grime from his fingernails, before he realizes what he’s doing and holds tight on to the steering wheel instead.

With his affirmation Felix can feel some weight leave his shoulders. He can feel his spine release its tension and his posture start to slack. The relaxation doesn’t come alone. His own sigh of relief sickens him. The fog of his breathe seeps into his skin; a nauseous toxin that tangles guilty, white tendrils into his organs.

“It’s cold,” Felix says.

Dimitri furrows his eyebrows confused for a second, before understanding hits. “Oh!” he says. “It is, isn’t it?” he asks while fumbling to turn the key in the ignition.

Felix sighs, but doesn’t say more. He shivers as the car heats up, and Dimitri hums in sympathy at his clacking teeth. Now, in the quiet of the dark with only the whir of the heat Felix can look at him properly. He scans him up and down, unblinking as he takes in every aspect of his companion’s form.

Overwhelmingly, for the most part, he just looks like Dimitri. His shoulders are still stupidly broad. His skin an uncomfortable eggshell in the blue light of the night. He sits too proper, hands straining on the steering wheel to avoid any nervous fidgeting as he stares forward in solemn silence.

There are some differences, of course. There are some inconsistencies between the man Felix once knew and the creature who sits beside him. His shirt is torn and frayed at the bottom. Something sticky muddles the ends of his ponytail. When Dimitri stretches his neck forward to adjust the angle of his mirror, Felix can see the way his skin stays still where his jugular should be. More than that, he can see the loud absence reflected in the rearview mirror facing Dimitri.

“I can take you home,” Dimitri offers.

Felix shakes his head. He doesn’t like to leave Dimitri alone immediately after he feeds.

Dimitri closes his eyes while taking in a breath. He breathes in through the nose. He doesn’t like to open his mouth wide around others. “I don’t want to take up more of your time,” he begins to argue, but stops himself when he catches Felix’s glare.

He doesn’t want to get into this tonight. He just wants to go to bed.

Dimitri complies and pulls the car out from the tight space behind some trashcans.

“Put your seatbelt on,” Felix tells him.

“Is that really necessary?” Dimitri asks, although he still clicks it closed regardless of his complaints.

“Yeah,” Felix answers. “It is.”

…

Home is on the move. At times home is Felix’s one-bedroom apartment, with the leaky faucets and the muffled Russian accents of his next-door neighbors fighting. There are nights when home is the freezing cab of Dimitri’s car. There are nights when home is the artificial lighting of a 24-hour diner, the raspy wheeze of a jukebox, and shitty tar black coffee. No matter what though, home is with Dimitri.

Tonight, home is Dimitri’s place. A larger space than Felix’s shoebox apartment, but not extravagant by any stretch of the imagination. A kitchen, a bathroom, living area, and two bedrooms. Most of these spaces are completely abandoned by Dimitri, but Felix can still get some use from them.

Felix pokes through Dimitri’s fridge. He knows he tries to keep it stocked for him specifically but is understandably forgetful of expiration dates and whether green olives are considered a full meal or not. He shoves a moldy bag of bread to the very back of the fridge and takes a brief inquiry of a jar of pickles. Finally, he settles on some suspiciously dated Greek yogurt and calls that good enough.

Dimitri’s in the living room. Brooding. His back is turned on Felix as he stares out his wide window to the unremarkable street view below. Felix doesn’t interrupt him. He sits on the couch, curling his legs under him as he picks at his late dinner.

There’s blood in Dimitri’s hair. Some scratches along his jaw. They’re not puckered pink like normal abrasions. If Felix didn’t know what he was looking for he’d easily miss them. They’re white marks barely raised against the stark pale of Dimitri’s skin. Small etchings that commemorate a struggle for life. Tiny wounds that will fade in a manner of hours, if not sooner.

“They fought,” Felix says plainly.

Dimitri doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even bristle or flinch at his words. The only indication that he heard him is a slight twitch in his fingers as he tightens his grip on the windowsill.

“I like them better when they fight,” Felix says and stirs his yogurt with an absent mind. “It’s better if they fight back.”

There isn’t any response for a long moment. Dimitri has a unique charm where he can suck all conversation out of the room, and Felix has to hold back the urge to squirm. When he does answer, he does so facing away, his voice echoing off the glass window, and his tone tight with restraint.

“How so?” Thick bitterness cracks in his throat. It stains the air with disdain. “How is it any better when they fight, Felix? How is it better?”

This isn’t unusual. Fits of anger and upset. Felix holds his breath and maintains a steady face. He would look bored to any unaware onlooker, apathetic almost, if it weren’t for the way his hands tremble.

“They have more autonomy,” Felix answers him. “If you’re going to die, don’t do it easily. There has to be– you need to,” he can’t help but fumble over his words. He tries to calm himself. He tries to remember that it’s just Dimitri. It’s only Dimitri. The person standing before him is Dimitri.

“You need to try,” he says finally. “Even if it’s impossible and useless, you need to try,” he casts his eyes down and takes in a shaky breath. “What’s the point in anything if you don’t try?”

“What do you mean?” Dimitri says only inches away from Felix.

Felix jumps and his cup of yogurt falls onto the carpet with a pathetic splatter. “Fuck!” he exclaims and on instinct whacks Dimitri in the chest as hard as he can. “ _FUCK!_ ” Felix yells even louder than before at his throbbing hand.

Dimitri blinks a single eye at him. “Are you alright?” he asks, utterly confused.

“Yes!” Felix hisses at him while cradling his hand to his chest. “Dammit Dimitri,” he glares at his stupid, worried face. “How many times do I have to tell you to make noises when you move?”

Dimitri lowers his eyes in embarrassment. “My apologies,” he tells him. “Are you alright?” he reaches for Felix’s hand.

Felix lets him. Mostly because he knows there’s no point in stopping an anxious Dimitri from worrying. He watches him inspect Felix’s hand, using tender fingers to prod at the muscles until they find a still forming bruise that makes Felix wince.

“My apologies,” Dimitri says once again as he cups Felix’s hand between his two palms.

“It’s whatever,” Felix looks away from him and tries to change he subject. “What were you saying before?”

The chill of Dimitri’s hands is better than any icepack. He rubs soft circles deliberately gentle as he quietly answers Felix. “I was asking you to elaborate from before. About fighting back.” His chest lays still as he waits.

The yogurt on the ground draws Felix’s eye. He talks to the forming stain. “Autonomy. Fighting back.” Each word is pulled out of him through clenched teeth. “They need to fight back or else– What if you– if they don’t fight then how are you going to remember–“ he can’t find the end of his sentence.

“How else will I remember that it’s wrong,” Dimitri finishes for him.

Felix gives a sharp nod. “Yeah. It’s wrong.”

“I’m wrong.”

“No,” Felix says firmly. “Maybe,” he says again, less assured. Felix clenches his fist around the pain in his knuckles. By now his body heat has seeped into Dimitri, leaving the hands holding Felix’s own lukewarm and near human. “It’s not like you asked for this,” Felix tells him.

“Sure, but I didn’t ask for you to stay either,” he says it so easily. He pretends as if he can’t see the way it makes Felix flinch.

Felix tries to pull his arm back, but Dimitri is quicker and his hold around his wrist unbreakable. “No,” Felix glares while Dimitri’s expression stays a perfect neutrality. “You didn’t.”

The hold on his wrist starts to ache. It has the same unbreakable formality as a shackle. “I want you to stay,” Dimitri tells him with eyes that don’t plead. He’s not asking. He could never ask him something of that magnitude. He’s only telling him. He’s letting him know. “I want you to stay.”

When he sighs, Felix can feel his entire body deflate with it. “You’re holding my wrist too tight,” he tells him.

Immediately he’s released and Dimitri’s sputtering yet another apology. “I didn’t mean to,” he tells him shamefully.

“I know,” Felix assures him. He tugs on Dimitri’s sleeve and makes him sit beside him on the couch. “I know,” he tells him again while pushing his hands through Dimitri’s hair and pulls it free from its ponytail.

“I’m sorry,” a thousand previous apologies echo in his voice, deepening the regret far darker than the situation warrants. “I’m sorry.”

Felix shakes his head. “I know,” he detangles the ends of Dimitri’s hair that are dried together with blood.

Dimitri stays still and allows him. His eyes closed and breath held as Felix gets far closer than any human should. He runs his fingers from scalp to ends. He pushes stray blond hair away from Dimitri’s eyes. He strokes his jaw. He cups a hand against the still skin of his neck.

“You didn’t ask for this,” a thousand reiterations of the same statement echo in his voice. Felix leans his forehead against Dimitri’s. He warms the pallor of his skin with his own pulsing blood flow. “You didn’t ask for this.”

Dimitri doesn’t move. Felix doesn’t think Dimitri even knows how to right now.

“I know,” Dimitri says on a whisper. “But neither did you.”

…

Just because Dimitri doesn’t sleep anymore doesn’t mean Felix shouldn’t either, but things are rarely that simple.

He’s tried to sleep in Dimitri’s spare room before, but it always feels too sterile and foreign for him. Usually he just stays on the couch covered with a worn comforter regardless of the temperature inside.

Dimitri doesn’t want to disturb him and keeps his distance, but that worries Felix more. Where Dimitri might go while he’s looking away.

“It’s late,” Dimitri chastises him when Felix shuffles into his room. “You need rest.”

Felix shrugs and crawls onto the bed. Dimitri sighs from his seat at his desk.

“You need sleep,” Dimitri tries again.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Felix…”

Felix leans against the headboard of the bed and pulls his knees to his chest. “I’m fine here. What are you doing?”

The change of topic is obvious, but Dimitri lets it go. “I’m reading.”

“Reading what?”

“A book on German linguistics.”

Felix laughs. “Why? You don’t speak German.”

“I’m running low on reading material for the night,” he gestures towards a stack of books. “I’ve gone through the historical ones. The romance and horror. I’ve tried Twilight, but that felt a bit too ironic.”

Felix nods along. “There’s tv.”

“What television do you watch?”

He purses his lips. “Cooking channel? Oh, wait.”

This time Dimitri laughs. “I appreciate the effort, though I suspect you’d have more success if you were better rested.”

“Fuck you,” Felix retorts without much bite.

The book is placed down with a small thump as Dimitri turns in frustration towards him. “What do think will happen if you sleep?” He asks while pinching the bridge of his nose.

Outside the window the edges of the sky are fading into pink and Dimitri pulls the blinds shut. People aren’t stirring yet, but soon they will be. If Felix listens hard enough, he can hear the stirring of birds as they begin their morning.

“ _Felix_ ,” Dimitri calls his attention back to him.

It’s hard to see Dimitri like this. “I worry. That’s all,” Felix answers.

“So, you come out with me at night,” Dimitri says. “Because you worry about what I’ll do.”

Denial is pointless, so Felix doesn’t bother with it.

“And here you are,” Dimitri gestures towards him. “Because you worry about what I’ll do.”

Outside a car honks its horn. A door slams further away. He can hear a woman’s tired laugh upstairs.

“I kill people, Felix,” Dimitri tells him as if he doesn’t know. Frustration morphing into anger. His posture hunches over as if he’s on the prowl. “I kill them and I devour them and then I come home as if nothing ever happened.”

Upstairs a shower begins to run. Outside a bird tweets a song. A car revs its engine and the morning is alive.

“That’s,” Dimitri’s voice is gruff. It’s more growl than yell. “That’s what happens whether you are here or not. People die, Felix.”

“I know,” finally Felix’s voice creaks out of him. “I know that.”

As quick as rage burns through Dimitri’s body it dissipates. He shakes his head roughly before slouching and looking away.

“People die,” his throat is thick as he stares at Dimitri’s desolate figure. “People die and that’s _wrong_ , but you didn’t ask for this. You didn’t.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I know that, Dimitri,” his voice cracks over his name. “But I don’t want you to die either.”

The quiet where the sound of breathing should be is deafening. Dimitri is stone in his seat.

“I don’t want you to die, Dimitri,” he tells him again. “I don’t want you to die.”

Outside a bird flutters away. Upstairs a shower is turned off and a phone rings. Dimitri is silent.

Felix curls himself into a ball. He doesn’t look away. “I’m wrong,” he tells him.

Dimitri shakes his head. “No,” he tells him.

“People die and that’s _wrong_ , but I don’t want you to die and I’m not worried about who you kill I’m worried about _you_ ,” he rushes his words out fast enough they blur together. Quick enough that his face is red and his lungs aching.

“Oh,” Dimitri says simply.

Felix turns his head away. “Yeah.”

“But you still need to sleep,” Dimitri reaffirms his previous statement.

Felix groans and bangs his head against the headboard. “Fine,” he agrees. “Come here.”

Dimitri frowns. “What for?”

“To ease my worry,” Felix says while patting the space next to him on the bed.

Dimitri complies albeit cautiously. When he climbs into bed beside him, Felix kicks back the covers to crawl under them, tugging Dimitri along.

“This is silly,” Dimitri protests as Felix curls into his side like a cat. He allows it though and wraps an arm around Felix’s shoulders.

“Shut up, I’m sleeping,” Felix chastises. He tilts his head up and squints at Dimitri. “You showered, right?”

With a roll of his eyes Dimitri assures him that he had. “I’m not an animal. Mostly.”

Felix reaches a hand up to pinch his cheek. He pushes up the corner of Dimitri’s lip up and a white fang peeks out.

“Careful,” Dimitri mumbles.

Felix nods as he runs his thumb over the tooth, making sure to avoid the sharp edges. “It’s kinda hot,” he tells him.

If Dimitri could blush, he would. He turns away, his now clean blond hair covering his face as he pulls Felix’s hand away.

“Hush,” he tells him. “Go to sleep.”

Even as he buries his face in his chest, Felix complains. “You’re not the boss of me,” he tells him in half yawn.

“I’m aware,” Dimitri assures him.

“Good,” Felix huffs. “Stay,” he commands while gripping the bottom of Dimitri’s shirt tight.

“Of course,” Dimitri strokes the top of his head. “Anything you say.”

**Author's Note:**

> i... kinda didn't edit this so sorry. i wanted to write a vampire au but then got lazy REALLY fast so sorry ;;A;;  
> my twitter is [here](https://twitter.com/biheretic) along with my curiouscat. and ofc like always comments are always loved and appreciated!!


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